The Prophet and the Sheperd
by Soul Eater Kishin
Summary: Sammy was always a peculiar guy. Even more so now that he runs a cult dedicated to my design. Bendy what did you do to him?
1. Chapter 1

Just an idea of what might have happened if Sammy recognized dat face

* * *

I awoke and quickly noticed the rope that bound me to a structure in the room a figure standing over me. His skin was oozing and seemed to be made entirely of ink at least what I could see as he wore a mask made from a Bendy cut out. I'm sick of seeing that twisted smile everywhere I look. At this point, I don't care what Joey was up to I just want to go home. The man bent down starting into me as if trying to recall something. "That face... You look familiar." That voice instantly registered in my head.

"Sammy?" I asked the man momentarily seemed surprised. Before leaning in closer I could smell the warm inky breath on my face. "What happened to you? What did Joey do and what's up with the fucked up Bendy?!" I yelled at him.

He grabbed my hair tightly yanking it back so I was forced to look at him. The twisted smiling mask showing only joy. "Ssshhh, A little-lost sheep should not say such terrible things about my lord! Or you'll have to be put to sleep." Sammy said with a slight laugh. Why doesn't it surprise me that this what Sammy turned into? I winced as he pulled on my head to keep it in place. "Why does your face bother me sheep?" He asked in a curious tone.

"It's me, Henry. Henry Stein." I said between bared teeth and Sammy instantly let go of my head. He backed away for a moment almost in surprise. He was silent for a moment pondering something.

"My my it seems the juicy sheep is actually a shepherd. The lord's creator to which he rose above." Sammy said in a sing-song tone. He's clearly gone insane. Acting like some sick cultist. "My lord would despise it if I sacrifice you." He muttered before grabbing a small pocket knife out of his well pocket. If he's not going to sacrifice me then why is he-? **Snap** he cut the ropes with the knife and they fell down laying limply on my lap. "There's my shepherd."

I stood up and quickly grabbed my Axe leaning against an old wooden railing and began pointing it at an unphased Sammy. He merrily raised his hands in the air in a sign of being peaceful. "I would never hurt the Lords Shepard. After all I am just his prophet."

"I'm no one's shepherd I just want to find a way out," I said firmly as I began backing away towards a door. The floor creaking with every step. I opened the door and ran in only to find it a dead end. Symbols drawn across the walls with song lyrics to match. A microphone set up on a desk.

"My Shepherd please come with me your sheep are waiting. I'd hate to make you sleep again." He put emphasis on the word sleep as if to give it a second meaning. Sammy blocked the doorway out and I sighed. I cornered myself like a dimwit and don't really have a choice.

"Fine." I said gripping my axe tightly in hand. "But, I'm not taking my eyes off of you Sammy and I'm no shepherd." I said through bared teeth.

He seemed to be happy with my agreement and soon he began guiding me through the old workshop. Coming across a slight problem occasionally as I can't travel through walls and Sammy can. Which was a startling surprise to find out that Sammy could! The entire time the songwriter would not shut up. Talking about my Lord that and that he is his only might prophet. Although I did learn some interest things. For example, Bendy isn't the only cartoon to be brought to life. In fact, most of the recurring characters were. The butcher gang had turned into abominations that barely resemble their original design... and for some reason their are corpses of Boris all over the studio. Hearts ripped out. "And he shall free us from our ink bodies," Sammy said in a long rant. He seems devoted to this Bendy rip off...

"Do you ever shut up?" I hissed in annoyance. He tilted his head towards me staring at me for a moment. I could practically feel him glaring at me... Even though I can't even see his eyes. After that, he stopped talking and moved to hum old tunes he wrote. I sighed wish we could go back to the good old days.

We reach a large vent. Surprisingly large almost like it was made for people to go through. Around it was written in sloppy ink 'No Angels'. "Hey, Sammy?" He didn't respond and just look at me. "Uh... Hello?"

"Oh, am I allowed to talk now shepherd?" He said his voice warbling. I rolled my eyes and rubbed the bridge of my nose.

"Stop calling me Shepard. My name is Henry. Remember?" I grumbled and Sammy shook his head slightly.

"That is the problem isn't it shep- Henry. Memories." We were silent for a moment I almost felt pity towards my old coworker. Guess I left the studio at just the right time. "What is it you want to know?"

"Huh?"

"You were going to ask a question."

"Oh right, " I looked towards the writing on the wall. I could help that think the messages in ink are kind of like writing in their blood. "No angels?"

"Dear lovely Susie isn't as stable as she likes to pretend," Sammy spoke in almost a sad voice. "The angel is corrupted, but the demon will set us free." He paused silently for a moment before repeating. "He will set us free..." He walked towards the open vet crawling inside of it and going down the tube-like structure.

I looked into it seeing Sammy crawl away and sighed looking at my ax. I leaned it against the wall before climbing in after him. Just what I always want to be in a tight area with a cultist.


	2. A short update

"So are you ever going to tell me what happened Sammy? Or are you going to keep answering all my questions very vaguely?" I grumbled crawling behind him in the vent. A shiver going up my spine when I pressed my hand into a puddle of ink. I shook my hand trying to get it off of me.

"We are almost there." Sammy said continuing on seemingly not realizing I had stopped. I quickly crawled towards him not wanting to get lost in the maze-like vents.

Finally, we made it out and I stretched my sore back. "I'm way too old for this." I grumbled before grasping as I realized my surroundings. It was like an entire town, deep under the old studio. "This defiantly wasn't here when I left."

"Things change Henry, much isn't the same from when you left." Sammy walked off to a boarded up area. Above it, more words smeared in ink. I glanced around to see a few people that peeked through window blinds. All I could make out is glowing eyes. Sammy suddenly spoke loudly turning from his place on the steps to face the town. "Fear not my people! For your brave prophet has brought to you the Shepherd!" He shouted gesturing his arms in a swooping motion. "Do not fear my little sheeps."

Soon people began to leave the scrap made houses. Like Sammy they where made from ink and stood upright, like people. Unlike Sammy, they all seemed to have glowing eyes and very rarely appeared to wear clothes. I looked amongst the group in amazement. I was certain that the studio never even had this many people in it, no it certainly didn't. The group of creatures whispered amongst themselves.

"Shepherd?"

"Why isn't he like us?"

"He's still human."

"Will he set us free?"

"Will you help us go home?"

They whispered and I felt a pang of pity in my chest. Joey must have done something terrible to these people. These... Lost ones. "I don't know if any of you remember me, but I'm Henry. Henry Stein."

"Henry?"

"The artist?"

"He owns this place too."

"Weren't him and Joey partners?"

"It's his fault too."

I tensed slightly as their whispering changed, they do seem to recognize me, but they don't seem to particularly like me. Sammy crossed his arms in an annoyed fashion. "Hush my succulent sshheep ssshhh. The Sheperd created our dear ink demon the one that will set us free!" He shouted to get his point across. "Surely our Lord will thank us for taking care of his tender lamb."

I shivered. Succulent, tender, he makes it sound like we're a home-cooked meal. I decided to remain silent this seems to be something Sammy is much better at doing. Organizing people guess he did run the music department. Which suits me just fine was never much of a talker.


End file.
